Lautrec's Odd Partner in Art

August 13, 2011

Every artist has his muse, but Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec and the eccentric entertainer Jane Avril had a special bond. A show at London's Courtauld Gallery presents the two as kindred spirits—outcasts deeply indebted to one another for their success.

"Toulouse-Lautrec and Jane Avril: Beyond the Moulin Rouge," on view through Sept. 18, is mostly made up of loans from American and European institutions but takes as its starting point the Courtauld's own "Jane Avril in the Entrance to the Moulin Rouge." This melancholy 1892 rendering shows the redheaded dancer out of costume and out of character, entering the famed Parisian nightclub alone.

Detail of 'Jane Avril in the Entrance to the Moulin Rouge,' from 1892.
The Courtauld Gallery, London

"It challenges the idea of Lautrec—which was popular in the 1980s and '90s—as some kind of misogynist," says curator Nancy Ireson. "There is something very individualized about his depictions of Avril. There's a sense of a particular respect."

Born Jeanne Beaudon in 1868 to a Parisian courtesan, Avril had a tumultuous and abusive childhood. She was admitted to the city's Salpêtrière Hospital for 18 months at age 14, where she was diagnosed with a nervous disorder known as St. Vitus' Dance. The exhibition includes archival photos of women with the same illness, twisting and contorting their feet and legs in a way remarkably similar to Avril's signature dance. Ms. Ireson's research suggests that doctors might have even encouraged Avril to use dance as both a release and a form of physical therapy.

Lautrec came from a rich family, but medical issues and malaise marked his early life as well. After he broke his legs as a child, his body became disproportionate and deformed; his height barely grazed 5 feet. "Living with these sorts of differences gave them a point of reference that I think very few other people could understand." Ms. Ireson says.

After the Moulin Rouge hired Avril in 1889, Lautrec painted her constantly. Some of his angular and unconventional depictions were used on posters to promote her performances. The Avril posters "made Lautrec famous as well," Ms. Ireson says. "They were advertising the performance, but they were also advertising the artist himself."

Unlike many artist-muse relationships, theirs is not thought to have escalated into romance, though that might have been to Lautrec's chagrin. He was known to be positively giddy whenever she was around. His late biographer, Thadée Natanson, who knew both Lautrec and Avril, once described the artist as something of an "amorous alcoholic" in her presence.

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